


Step On My Heart (I Like It)

by Flynncantation



Series: Shipping Out: Tumblr prompts [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, creek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynncantation/pseuds/Flynncantation
Summary: Goth boy Pete has fallen hard for accidental non conformist Tweek Tweak. Craig isn’t impressed.





	Step On My Heart (I Like It)

\---

“Ugh, like, what’s got into you lately?”

Lazily Pete draws his attention back to Michael who, judging by the near empty pack of Richmonds crumpled at his feet, is on at least his seventh cigarette of the morning. By his side Henrietta is doodling on her arm with eyeliner: skulls, cats, the words “die conformists” and “life is pain” coiling gracefully along her skin.

“What…?” Pete says in his perpetually stoned tone, flicking his (currently teal) fringe out of his eyes. He directs a puff of air at it when it simply flops back down, sort of like a dog resituating itself after being shooed off the couch.

Michael taps the end of his butt, tisking when ash piles on his boot and aggressively shaking it off. It makes him look like a puppet on strings. When satisfied, he lights up another cigarette and takes a long, slow drag and exhales with a whoosh. “You like, keep staring at that blond kid all the time.”

“Like, duh,” Henrietta interrupts, now examining her fingernails for chips in her deep violet painted polish. Much like all of her, they’re as immaculate as always, the tips painted with a flourish of Depths of My Soul Black. “Isn’t it obvious. He’s like, totally got the hots for him.”

\---

“Um, Pete, right?” Tweek says, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Repetitively he scratches the underside of his jaw and Pete wonders if he’s nervous or if it’s just a tic. Apparently Tweek Tweak has a lot of those. Pete thinks they’re cute. Non-conformist even, which is the only reason Michael has deemed it acceptable for Pete to at least attempt to pursue his new interest.

Thus far it hasn’t worked. Now Pete is taking the opportunity to ensure he’ll be able to spend long periods alone in Tweek’s company, regaling him with soul-crunching poetry and aching sonnets. 

“Yeah, like, yeah,” Pete replies dumbly, wracking his brain for something more intelligible to say. “So like, wanna be project partners?”

Tweek’s eyebrows shoot up so fast Pete thinks they might launch straight off his forehead.

“I-I’m partnered Craig!” he shrieks, jerking his finger at the Angry One sitting in the corner fast asleep with his head in his arms.

Oh. Pete swears he can feel the weight of the universe crushing his very bones into cosmic dust.

\---

Pete had gone out of his way to eat lunch near to the Regular Kids: The Fatty, The Jew, The Nice One, Kenny. And their rival gang: The Scary One, The Not-Funny One, The Crybaby, The Smart One and… The Cute One.

Tweek Tweak is only the next bench over, smiling a smile that makes Pete’s insides do curious little loop-the-loops. And when he laughs...when he laughs Pete sighs in a way that make him sick to his stomach as if he’s just in that single action spat all over everything he’s supposed to stand for. Michael would be disappointed in him.

Then again, maybe he and Tweek will have a dark and brooding gothic romance, like Catherine and Heathcliffe, Mina and Johnathan, Jane Eyre and Rochester

At the latter thought his nose wrinkles in disgust, astounded his own mind would even supply that pairing possibility. How absurd.

When Pete picks up a pair of coffees (one flat white, one espresso) and sits himself down opposite Tweek, The Angry One fires a look his way Pete is certain is intended to set his inner core ablaze and engulf his soul in flames. “Uh,” The Crybaby begins, beside whom Pete is now sat. “Can we help you?”

“Ugh, don’t speak to me Jock Boy,” Pete grunts, dismissively waving in his direction. Startled by his audacity, The Crybaby turns his attention to The Angry One, awaiting his reaction. He’s placed down the phone he’d been laughing at until a moment ago and he has an arm cast around Tweek’s shoulder, holding him flush to his side.

Pete is jealous but he’ll never let such a socially conformist emotion overwhelm him. So he swallows the feeling, replacing it with nothing but disgust for the situation he’s in, surrounded by noisy douchebags. All except for one. “Like, I got you this,” he says, sliding the flat white across the table until it’s in front of Tweek.

Tweek looks at it, then at Pete, then at the Angry One, then back to Pete. “W-why?” he splutters, although he doesn’t look ungrateful, eyeing the beverage with interest since his flask is depressingly void of his beloved nectar.

Cause you’re hecka cute.

“Like, I dunno, just thought you’d like one.” Pete hops to his feet, swiping his own coffee up to take a tentative sip. “Later.”

Nailed it.

\---

The next time Pete sees Tweek that day is gym class. He doesn’t fail to notice Tweek suspiciously eyeing him from across the room, but that probably has more to do with the fact Pete has attended - at most - four gym classes since the semester started and it’s a surprise to everyone to see him actually turn up.

Tweek is wearing the standard sports get-up (Pete had to fish his own out of lost property after intentionally dumping it there), but the shorts are a little too long. Although, his arms and chest are lean and toned and sort of make Pete’s mouth water.

They play a few rounds of dodgeball, but Pete fails to get onto Tweek’s team because The Angry One is chosen as captain and he already has some kind of conformist vendetta against him for Pete daring to sit with them at lunch. Seeming to want to make slamming a ball into Pete’s face his only goal in life, The Angry One repeatedly targets him, releasing a frustrated yell when he misses for the fifth time and the ball hurtles into the teacher’s face instead.  
His unwarranted crusade gets him sent to the principle. Tweek is finally free of his evil clutches. Oh blissful karma. The perfect moment to strike.

Except, when their gazes meet, Tweek bolts out of the room like an arse-slapped racehorse.

\---  
“W-why are you doing this!?”

Pete looks up from his phone, pleasantly surprised to find Tweek Tweak standing in front of him, as wild and wonderful as ever. His shirt is inside out and he’s holding the wrong strap of his backpack which, bulging and half-open, is dangerously close to exploding with whatever shit he has stashed in there.

“Like, doing what?” Pete answers dryly, cocking his head. He pushes off from the wall he’s leaning against and Tweek takes a wary step backwards, bouncing on his toes.

“Stuff! Following me around and trying to talk to me! It’s weird, man, I don’t wanna be a goth!”  
Pete considers him, the image of Tweek garbed in black a thrilling thought. “So, like,” he starts, pauses to toss his hair aside. Tweek twitches. “Do you wanna like, go out with me or whatever?”

Tweek goes mute. For moment Pete wonders if he’s broken him, or caused a mental malfunction that stops him from communicating. That’d be cool. “You what!?” he eventually yelps, his whole body moving with the outburst. “I…you…no!”

“No?”

In all this time Pete hasn’t considered the idea Tweek would reject him. He’s cool, edgy, suave. Any conformist would be delighted to be asked out by him (tch, as if he’d ever do that though).

“I’m with Craig!”

“Who’s Craig?”

“I am.”

Pete sees the Angry One approaching over Tweek’s shoulder, and suddenly everything makes sense.

Tweek is taken. The love of his life has been snatched away from under his nose, has defiled his heart, torn into his soul!

Never will he love again.

Delighting in the wonderful, aching sensation of his very world coming to an end, Pete answers, “Like, whatever man.”  
\--


End file.
